Lilies and Basil
by Maplefrost
Summary: She loved the smell of basil, and he loved making her happy. A short fic about one of Merry's past loves. BEWARE OF CAVITIES.


"Come on, Merry!"

The young hobbit girl turned around as she yelled to her companion, her brown, curly hair whipping around her face.

The other hobbit was running towards her. Once he reached her, he fell forward, resting his hands on his knees.

"Gee, Lily, you've got to slow down," he panted. He straightened his posture, and looked into the girl's bright green eyes.

Lily laughed. "I'm sorry, Merry. I just wanted to show you something!" She grabbed Merry's yellow vest and pulled him after her as she ran into the small patch of woods behind Merry's house.

Both young hobbits found it hard to run while Lily was clutching Merry's vest. Soon, Merry tripped on his own feet, causing both of them to collapse into a patch of grass. Neither could stop giggling.

Merry sat up, his blonde hair mussed. Lily propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes twinkling.

"Look, there it is!"

She jumped up and ran towards a small patch of plants. Merry followed her, a little confused.

"What is it?" Merry asked. Lily had bent down, picked a leaf, and was holding it to her nose.

"Here!" She said, holding it out for him to smell. He bent down and sniffed it. His nose scrunched up and he closed his eyes.

"Eh!" He let out a snort. "Smells like one of them things Mum keeps in the cupboard…an herb, I think."

Lily smiled. "It's called basil. Me mum can't have it in the house because it makes my father sick." Her face fell a little. "This is the only wild patch in Buckland, Mum says. But she doesn't like me being back here alone."

Merry frowned and thought a moment. "Mum's got a bunch of herbs in her garden, but she doesn't grow basil. Why don't I ask if we can take some from here and grow it in our garden? That way, you could come over and smell it all you want!"

Lily, shocked, gazed into his blue eyes. "Really?" she asked. "You'd do that?"

Merry smiled. "Sure."

----x--X--x----

So Merry planted the basil in the center of his mother's garden, and Lily often came over to talk to Merry and smell the basil. They grew closer then they had before, and their friendship stretched on for many years.

----SEVERAL YEARS LATER----

"I take it he knows, then?"

Frodo asked Pippin as he walked into Merry's house, Sam following behind him. Pippin nodded.

"I told him just a few minutes ago." Pippin's face was pale.

Frodo nodded. "Let me try and talk to him."

The older hobbit went into the room, but Merry wouldn't talk. No matter what he said, the blonde hobbit simply stared forward into space.

Frodo left the room and walked back to Pippin, who could tell that Frodo hadn't succeeded.

"Don't feel too bad," said Pippin. "He wouldn't even talk to me. Me, of all hobbits."

----x--X--x----

Merry did not want to be talked to.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Lily was too young to die. Too kind and innocent to die.

But she had died, all the same.

''Curse the disease that took her,' he thought to himself. 'Curse the medicine that didn't cure it, and the doctors that couldn't help!'

He went on until he couldn't think of anything else to blame. Instead, he sat there, too lonely to cry.

----x--X--x----

Merry must have dozed off. When he woke up, everything was dark. However, he could see a pale light outside. He stood up and moved toward the window.

Someone was in his garden.

Infuriated, he sprang up and rushed out the door as silently as he could. While he ran he grabbed a watering can.

He sneaked up to the garden's fence. Someone was holding a lantern and sitting in the middle of the garden, right where the basil was, digging.

Merry slipped through the gate, anger burning inside him. How dare someone come in, and try to dig up the basil? Lily's basil?

The hobbit digging didn't see Merry until it was too late. Merry lifted the empty watering can and smashed it down on the intruder's head.

The hobbit slumped over with a weak murmur of pain. Merry rushed forward and grabbed the lantern, shoving it into the hobbit's face.

"Sam?"

The digging hobbit, dizzy with pain, managed to nod. "You didn't 'ave to 'it me, Mr. Merry, sir," he muttered, reaching his hand to feel the back of his head.

"Well, what were you doing in my garden, digging up Lily's, I mean my, basil!"

"I wasn't digging up the basil, sir," Sam said. Merry walked back a couple steps and brought the lantern up to his eyes.

Around the basil a ring of lilies had been planted into the soil. In front of the patch and the flowers, 'In Memory of Lily Burkin' was written in small pebbles. It was very precise, and must've taken hours.

"You did this, Sam?" Merry breathed, once he'd found words.

Sam nodded. "Yes, Mr. Merry. I'm sorry if you don't like it." He winced as he pulled his hand from the back of his head.

Merry's eyes widened. "Like it? It's…it's beautiful." He sat down on the dirt next to Sam, who looked at him.

"I know you loved her, Mr. Merry, and that you cared a lot about her. But she's home now, and that's where she has to be. But you'll see her again, don't worry."

Merry didn't say anything; he collapsed into Sam's arms, burying his face into Sam's chest as he cried. Sam held him there, glad that the poor hobbit had finally consoled in someone.

Sam looked at the hand he had been holding to his head, and noticed it was covered in blood. Sam winced as he felt the throbbing of the cut once more, and wiped his hand on the inside of his vest.

Merry didn't have to know.


End file.
